


Hot Mess in Cold Rain

by nihonlove



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Bad Days, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, College Student Katsuki Yuuri, College Student Victor Nikiforov, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Detroit, Embarrassment, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, Teacher's Assistant Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9923423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihonlove/pseuds/nihonlove
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri was having pretty much the worst day ever. One call just may make it a little better, even though it didn't reach the person Yuuri originally meant to call.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on this hot mess AU prompt: ‘i called the wrong number and started talking about my life and you only interrupted me after a few a few minutes of me revealing some pretty personal stuff and now youre invested in my life troubles’, which I found [here](http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com/post/113482576611/hot-mess-otp-aus-pt-3-i-called-the-wrong-number). Because Yuuri is the hottest mess. (But he's also the _hottest_ mess am I right? ;))
> 
> Beta-read by my friends justkeeponwriting, MashiarasDream and LilitNikiforov. MashiarasDream also suggested the title for this, and it made me laugh too hard not to use XD.

When retelling the story later, Phichit would blame the whole incident on the fact that Yuuri still wasn’t quite caught up to the 21 st century apparently, simply because Yuuri wasn’t practically glued by the hand to his phone. And although Yuuri resented that notion, there was a part of him that had to agree with his best friend.

It wasn’t as though Yuuri was technologically illiterate. It was kind of hard to be going to college in the modern society and not be proficient in at least using a laptop. But Yuuri had grown up in Small Town, Japan, where it had often seemed like time was moving slower. The world would pass on by while Hasetsu remained more or less the same. All that really changed was that it seemed to just keep getting smaller and quieter, as businesses closed and people left to seek their better opportunities in bigger cities.

In some ways, Hasetsu had seemed almost be going backwards in time rather than forwards, and the inn that Yuuri had called home for the first 18 years of his life had stayed pretty much the same through all his years of living there. His parents still had that old phone with the wires and cords that was older than Yuuri himself, and up until Yuuri had left for college, he hadn’t even owned a cell phone. His first phone had been a graduation present from his parents so they could all better keep in touch, since Yuuri had been going away to college far, far away from home. But by that point, although Yuuri’s new phone had been the best model market had to offer at that time, Yuuri was used to doing things most people handled on their phones on his laptop, instead. And he’d never really picked up the importance of using his phone for internet, pictures, apps and whatever else; rather, he only really used it for what he considered the true purpose of having a phone: calling and texting people.

So, by the time his old phone finally got in a bad enough shape that Phichit managed to convince Yuuri to buy a new one, and when Yuuri had saved up enough money for one, he still didn’t do much else with it. He had finally gotten an Instagram account because he had grown tired of hearing about it every other day from his best friend, but he had barely used it. The whole idea of a new phone sort of slipped from his mind, because around the same time Phichit dragged him to buy it, Yuuri was also swamped with projects, essays, and exams on top of his dance classes. (Honestly, Phichit had probably dragged him to go phone shopping right that moment so that Yuuri would have an excuse to take a break for a while.) He didn’t have much chance for using it at the time. He hadn’t even replaced all his old contact information that had unfortunately been destroyed with his old phone when he’d dropped it in the toilet, resulting in its ultimate demise.

Yuuri hadn’t been worried. As mentioned, he had grown up dialing and memorizing numbers on traditional phones, and the habit had carried over even to adulthood. He had all the important numbers memorized, and he’d replace them on his new phone once he had some more free time.

This thought honestly was the only thing that was keeping Yuuri from crying right now, just barely. His hand shaking, his whole body trembling as his eyes burned, he began to push his best friend’s number on his phone. Once finished with dialing, he placed the phone against his ear, listening to the sounding beeps from it as the line connected. He tried to even out his breathing and his erratic heartbeat as he waited for Phichit to pick up. There was a lump in his throat that kept choking him, and he bit his lip trying to hold onto the last threads of his dignity.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, Yuuri felt the phone vibrate in the way that signaled someone on the other end had picked up. “Hel-”

“Phichit!” Yuuri couldn’t help the cry that escaped his mouth before his best friend could even say anything. “Can you come and get me? I’m at the dance studio, and…”

“I-”

But before Phichit could answer, Yuuri felt like everything that had been weighing down on him was pouring out of him like a waterfall. He knew he could talk to Phichit about all this, and his best friend would listen, understand, and try his best to offer comfort. And that was just too much of a wonderful thought that once Yuuri got going, he couldn’t stop.

“Phichit, today has been pretty much the worst day of my life. Even worse than that time at a competition when they played the wrong music for my solo and I froze on stage and started crying in front of everyone until Minako-sensei came to escort me away.” He sniffed.

“I was up late working on a paper last night, and I must’ve forgotten to set my alarm because I overslept. I missed first period, and had to rush so I could make it to the second one. I biked to school as fast as I could, and had just about time to buy myself a cup of coffee before the class, but then…” He took a deep breath. “I was rushing to the classroom and I ran into Viktor. And I mean, really, literally, ran into him. And I spilled the coffee all over his shirt.” 

Viktor was the gorgeous Teacher’s Assistant who had been teaching most of the literature courses Yuuri had to take for his English credits this semester. Just listening to his deep, smooth voice was almost enough for Yuuri to consider changing his major to literature, just so he could have more classes with Viktor; to listen to his voice, and see the sparkle in his eyes, and the huge smile his lips spread into whenever Yuuri found the boldness to actually express an opinion on any of the books they were reading for the course. He’d been finding that type of boldness in himself a lot more lately whenever Viktor taught the class.

“The shirt looked expensive too, and I ended up making even more of a fool of myself by trying to wipe the coffee away!” It had meant being far more up and close to Viktor than Yuuri had managed so far, and he’d ended up nearly swallowing his tongue when he’d realized he’d essentially been rubbing at Viktor’s chest. And that he could smell his cologne up so close. It had made him a bit dizzy, to be honest. Of course Viktor had insisted that it was all okay, that accidents happened, but Yuuri hadn’t even been able to say anything back. He knew Viktor was just trying to make him feel better, anyway. He’d essentially bypassed Viktor, just stepping into the class and finding his seat without another word.

“It gets even worse,” Yuuri groaned. “When I got to my seat, I tried to take out my materials to take notes, and to give out the essay I had had on my desk to take with me to the class. But then I realized in my rush I hadn’t remembered to take any of them with me! I had to ask Yuri,  _ Yuri _ , for paper and pen because you know I don’t know anyone else in that class.” 

Yuri Plisetsky was the freshman that Yuuri knew for a fact was only 17 because he took classes at the same dance studio as Yuuri, and where Yuuri also worked part-time. They didn’t have to interact that much, thankfully, but every time they did, Yuri would always yell at Yuuri and call him names. Yuuri was honestly ashamed by how much a kid five years his junior intimidated him so much.

“He gave them to me, strangely, though not without an insult,” Yuuri continued. “But it didn’t really matter, because I ended up falling asleep in the middle of the class. Because, you know, I didn’t have my coffee and…” It was probably best not to mention that Viktor’s voice was a bit too soothing. Phichit would never let him live it down. “And when the class ended, Viktor woke me up. He probably now thinks I find his class boring, when it’s basically the highlight of my week and I’m not even majoring in literature!” Yuuri sighed. “Not to mention everyone else brought in their papers, but I had to ask for an extension since I forgot it.” Viktor had teased him about it, too. Even though he had said Yuuri could just bring it to his office the following day, Yuuri had felt humiliated being caught like that and being confronted about it so directly.

“The rest of the day wasn’t much better because I still didn’t have any pens or paper, other than the one Yuri gave me. I missed breakfast so I was starving all day, but I couldn’t buy lunch because amongst the things I forgot to bring was my wallet. All I had was the change in my pockets that I’d already used on that coffee. Then when I left for my dance lessons, it had started raining, and I didn’t have any sort of cover for biking here. I got soaked.” He had put his clothes to dry out during practice, for which he’d at least had a change of clothes, but they were still damp on him now that he’d changed back into them.

“Even dancing was terrible.” His eyes were really burning now, and even though he tried to hold them back, tears slowly began rolling down his cheeks. He sniffed again, trying to keep his voice steady. “I messed up my plié. I’ve been doing ballet since I was three, Phichit, I’m not supposed to mess up my plié! I couldn’t get that out of my head, and the whole practice was just a waste.” It had been so bad that eventually his teacher, Madame Lilia, had simply told him to go home. He knew she must be so disappointed in him. She’d only taken him as a student because Minako-sensei had recommended him to her. Yuuri was pretty sure Madame Lilia was regretting taking her old friend’s word for him now. He hadn’t been performing his best for a while in dance now.

“I’d…I’d come home, but…” It was getting harder and harder to talk. Yuuri tried to take a few steadying breaths. “My bike…someone stole the tires. I can’t…I can’t get home like this.” It was still raining heavily, Yuuri only sheltered by the yawning on top of the dance studio door. He wasn’t shivering just because he was upset in his damp clothes. “I can’t even buy a bus ticket home. Can…can you come and get me?”

There was silence at the other end. Yuuri would’ve thought Phichit had hung up on him if he couldn’t still hear his breathing at the other end.

“Phichit?” Yuuri asked quietly.

“No,” the person at the other end said. Wait. That didn’t sound like Phichit. “This is not Phichit. This is Viktor.”

And yeah, Yuuri could hear it now too. Of course, it could be some other Viktor, but Yuuri was pretty sure he would recognize that voice anywhere. He almost dropped his phone in shock, but then remembered it had been expensive and he needed it still. Still, his heart was beating a mile a minute now, and he could feel his face and ears flush for more than just the crying. He’d just rattled Viktor’s ear off about his horrible, humiliating experiences. Could this day get any worse?

“Yuuri? Are you still there? This  _ is  _ Yuuri Katsuki, right?” Viktor’s voice spoke, bringing Yuuri out of trying to alternatively remember how much incriminating stuff he’d said about what he thought about Viktor in their conversation and thinking about booking the fastest ticket back to Japan.

“Y-yes!” Yuuri yelped. “I-I am.” He paused. “On both accounts.”

God, he wanted to bury himself. Could he get more embarrassing?

“Where are you right now? Can you give me the address? I’ll come get you.”

Yuuri blinked. Had Viktor just said what he thought he had? “Y-you’ll…come and…?”

“I’ll come and get you,” Viktor said, his tone firm, but also even and calm. Yuuri could hear something rattling in the background, fabric moving on fabric, and something like keys clinking together. “I have a car, and a trunk big enough for your broken bike. I’ll drive you home.”

“Y-you don’t have to do that…I can just call my friend.”  _ The one this whole call was meant for in the first place _ , Yuuri though, ashamed.

“It’s raining cats and dogs out there, Yuuri,” Viktor said, now sounding serious, his voice deeper than ever. Yuuri suppressed a shiver. “I don’t want you to get sick. I’m not doing anything right now, and we might as well not waste more time with you waiting. So can you please give me the address?”

How could Yuuri refuse him, when Viktor sounded so genuine and worried for Yuuri’s sake? Somewhat in a daze, Yuuri managed to mumble the address to the phone.

“I’ll be there in about 10 or 15 minutes,” Viktor promised. “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“No, it’s okay,” Yuuri said. He didn’t want to dig himself into an even deeper hole. “I’ll…I’ll see you soon.”

“All right then,” Viktor said, and hung up.

Right when he did, Yuuri buried his red face in his hands. He couldn’t believe that had just happened. How was this his life? What had he done to deserve this? He knew he had been eating more junk food lately than was necessarily advisable, especially for a dancer, but wasn’t the weight gained from that enough punishment? Now Viktor knew far too much about what a mess Yuuri honestly was, and there would be even less of a chance for him to ever even look at Yuuri’s way again. Even worse, he might now even know about the way that Yuuri felt just a little bit better about himself, about life in general whenever Viktor praised him in class. That whenever he looked at Yuuri, Yuuri’s heartbeat would speed up, and in a way that was for once good. That sometimes, when he was alone, Yuuri would find himself picturing Viktor’s eyes and hair and smile in his mind’s eye, and bury his grin and blush into his pillow. And now, because Yuuri had been unable to come up with a good enough reason not for Viktor to come get him, Viktor would see him with his hair all messed up, his eyes red from crying and his clothes wet and wrinkled from the rain. Awesome.

These thoughts kept Yuuri busy all the while until a nice and stylish silver car pulled up in front of him, and Viktor got out, hurrying under the awning to find shelter from the rain.

“Do you want to find your bike? Or would you rather leave it here and get it another time?” was the first thing he said to Yuuri. Even in this weather, he was dressed neatly in a coat and a scarf, and his hair was impeccable. Yuuri knew he had to look a downright mess standing next to him like this.

“I…I better take it. I don’t want to leave it here for the night,” Yuuri said, though he knew he’d have to replace both tires. He honestly wondered why only the tires had been stolen. It would’ve made more sense to steal the whole bike. Or maybe not. His bike was old, only working as well as it did because Yuuri regularly maintained it.

“All right, then,” Viktor said. “Can you point it out to me?”

Yuuri did, and Viktor started picking it up. “Y-You don’t have to do that! I can do it myself…” Yuuri tried to insist, but Viktor was already carrying the bike over to the car.

“I think you’ve had enough for today. Go to the car before you catch a cold. It’s warm in there.”

The idea of a warm car was too tempting for Yuuri, especially since Viktor was already putting his bike in the trunk of the car, so he just grabbed his bags and hurried through the rain to the car. Without thinking about it much, he went to sit in the front seat, and put his things in the backseat. Being out of the rain already made him feel a bit better, shivering as he was. He rubbed at his arms for the extra warmth.

Viktor soon got in on the driver’s side, and Yuuri only then realized, his anxiety still high, to worry about whether or not he should’ve sat in the back instead. Maybe Viktor wouldn’t like him sitting in the front seat? And it would probably be doubly more awkward, too. There would’ve been much less pressure to talk if he’d been in the backseat. God, Yuuri was so  _ stupid _ …

“Have you eaten anything today?” Viktor broke the silence.

“What?” Yuuri croaked, caught totally off-guard.

“Have you eaten? You said you missed breakfast and couldn’t eat lunch.”

“Oh, um…” Yuuri blushed. He didn’t understand why Viktor was asking. “Mila, a girl at the dance studio, let me eat her banana.” Viktor frowned at that, bringing his finger to his lips. “I-it’s okay though! I can eat when I get home!” Yuuri was  _ pretty sure  _ that there was still at least one cup of ramen in the cupboard. Unless Phichit had eaten it, which wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, and though he was frowning, his eyes and tone were surprisingly gentle. “Let me take you to eat something. You shouldn’t have to wait, and I think after the day you’ve had, you need some comfort food. Is there someplace you’d prefer?”

“…But I still have no money on me,” Yuuri mumbled, not being able to help the blush that spread across his face, unable to look at Viktor. How could he, when Viktor was looking at him like that, in Viktor’s car, after he’d come to get Yuuri? It was like that song Phichit sometimes played,  _ “You’re in a car with a beautiful boy…” _ Except that this was real life, and Yuuri shouldn’t let himself get carried away by silly notions.

Viktor chuckled at that, and Yuuri could swear his heart skipped a beat. “I know. I meant I could treat you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that…”

“I know. But I’d like to,” Viktor smiled to him then; a soft, gentle smile. “Let me help you, Yuuri.”

And somehow, Yuuri ended up agreeing, and giving Viktor the address to the place that sold that awesome pulled pork hamburger that he loved. It was no pork cutlet bowl, but Yuuri happened to know for a fact that the best place for those around here was over a two-hour drive away, and he honestly didn’t want to make Viktor drive that far, nor wait so long to have some actual food. He also knew the burger wasn’t exactly the healthiest choice for a meal, but he’d never been very skilled at making good choices when it came to food. And goddammit, after a day like this, he really did need some comfort food.

They didn’t really talk on the way to the diner, for which Yuuri was partly grateful and partly uncomfortable with. The silence allowed him not to humiliate himself even further in front of Viktor, but he’d also never liked those types of silences where it felt like someone should say something but no one did. He tried his best to keep as still as possible, to not fidget, and not think about anything. And most importantly, keep his eyes firmly where they were, not even glancing over at Viktor. Everything he’d so far said to the man today kept playing over and over in his mind. Why was Viktor even doing this? Maybe he just felt sorry for Yuuri? That had to be it. Viktor was just that nice of a person that he couldn’t find it in himself to leave Yuuri, or not make sure he got something to eat. Yuuri hated that it only made him like Viktor more.

They made it to the diner soon enough, but when Viktor parked, he pulled a bag over from the backseat, and offered it to Yuuri.

“I brought you some clothes. You don’t have to put them on if you don’t want to, I just…” Was Yuuri mistaken, or was that a light blush on his cheeks? “I thought you’d be more comfortable in dry clothes.”

Yuuri blinked in shock, and almost subconsciously took the bag from Viktor with a stammered ‘thank you,’ before he could think much further about what he was doing. By the time he realized he maybe shouldn’t have said yes to that, it would’ve seemed weird, so Yuuri simply resigned himself to his fate and went to change in the bathroom while Viktor got the two of them a booth to sit at.

Viktor had brought him a turtleneck shirt, a jacket and a pair of jeans. Yuuri changed into them quickly, and was immediately grateful to be out of his wet and uncomfortable clothes. The shirt was cashmere, and incredibly soft to touch. It almost caressed his skin, and Yuuri had to run his hands over it a few times once he got it on. It also smelled like Viktor; of the cologne he wore and the laundry detergent he seemed to prefer. Yuuri had to stop himself from staying in the bathroom just smelling and touching the shirt. The clothes fit pretty well, considering Viktor was a bit taller than him, though Yuuri had to roll up the sleeves a bit. They also seemed expensive, and made Yuuri wonder not for the first time if Viktor was some type of trust fund kid, when he always seemed so impeccably dressed.

He found Viktor easily by his pale hair at one of the booths, where it almost seemed to shine in silver under the fluorescent lights. Viktor greeted him with a smile and a hand raised in a quick wave as Yuuri took a seat across from him.

“You look nice,” Viktor said, and although Yuuri was sure he was probably mocking him, he still blushed and averted his eyes.

Viktor was quiet for a moment, then picked up his menu. “You know what you want to order yet?”

Yuuri nodded. “I always order the same thing here. The pulled pork burger. It’s my favorite.”

Viktor blinked, raising his eyebrows. “I think I want to try that too, then.”

They both told this to the waitress who took their orders, and they both simply wanted water to drink. While they waited for their food to arrive, Yuuri kept nervously sipping at his drink, trying to think of something clever to say. Or at least something that wasn’t horribly embarrassing, and that could maybe explain why he had gone off on Viktor like that earlier, but all of it seemed to just blur together and the words were lost to him, muddling together into a messy pile that he couldn’t seem to be able to sort out.

He was still staring down at his water when Viktor spoke up instead, “You shouldn’t take Yuri or what he says seriously. He’s more bark than he is bite.”

“Huh?” Yuuri blurted out.

“Yuri Plisetsky. That’s who you were talking about on the phone, right? You don’t need to worry, he’s just being a brat.”

Yuuri blinked. “You know Yuri?”

“I’ve known him since he was in his mother’s belly. We grew up neighbors; his mother is my mother’s best friend. He’s sort of like my little brother,” Viktor smiled.

Yuuri couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. “He mustn’t like the fact you’re now his teacher very much.”

“No, I can’t say he does, although his mother likes the fact that I’m around to look after him,” Viktor grinned. “But Yura wants to do all his required classes now, when he’s still going through puberty, in order to be able to focus more and more on dance in the following years, so he has to put up with me. I think he’d like it better if he could talk me into letting him in on exam questions for the course, but that could get me fired, so I have to refuse him.”

“I think Madame Lilia mentioned something like that to me, that Yuri’s taking a bit of a break from dance competitions to let his body adjust,” Yuuri mused to himself.

“That’s what’s probably eating at him right now. Competing is everything to him; he hates being forced to the sidelines,” Viktor said, shrugging. “Or maybe he’s just being a teenager. Either way, he’ll get over it,” Viktor picked up his phone, and evidently began looking for something on it. “Here,” he said, offering the phone to Yuuri. “Next time he gives you a hard time, you can think about this image. Maybe it’ll help.”

Yuuri took the phone, and almost couldn’t hold back a laugh. On it was a picture of a slightly younger Yuri Plisetsky, in what was probably his childhood bedroom, dressed in Tigger the  _ Winnie the Pooh _ character onesie, complete with stripes and ears at the top, sleeping very soundly in his bed, curled around a rather fluffy cat. His expression was softer than Yuuri had ever seen it, relaxed and childish, his light blond hair falling over his face.

He couldn’t even find the words to say, so he just looked up at Viktor’s grinning face in shock.

“Well…damn,” was what Yuuri ended up blurting out. But then he just realized he’d cursed in front of his teacher, and began to stammer, “I-I mean…!”

Viktor just laughed, waving him off. “I know, right?” he said, smiling wide. Yuuri noted that his smile was a bit different than in class, looking heart-shaped. “It’d be nice if he was quiet like this all the time, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, stop,” Yuuri chided, though he was smiling too, as he handed Viktor’s phone over. “Does he know you have that picture?”

“He woke up a while later, so in that way, yes. But he thinks I deleted it, so in that way, no,” Viktor smirked, and Yuuri let out a short laugh.

“Thanks. That does make me feel a bit better,” Yuuri admitted. He wouldn’t say anything about it to Yuri’s face, but the thought of him was much less intimidating now that Yuuri knew what he looked like in his sleep. And what he possibly slept in, unless he’d already grown out the onesie.

Viktor waved him off. “It’s nothing. I know Yura can be difficult to handle, especially if you don’t know him very well. I know what he was like as a kid, so it’s easier for me to tolerate him as a teenager. But that doesn’t mean I should just let him walk all over people,” he said. “Especially someone like you, Yuuri.”

Once more, Yuuri could feel the blush spreading all the way up to his ears. What the hell did Viktor mean by that? Did he see Yuuri as so weak that he needed to be protected? But then, why was his expression so soft and, dare he say, fond, when he said it?

Before Yuuri could analyze every part and possible explanation for what Viktor had just said, the waitress arrived with their orders, and Yuuri was again confronted by how hungry he actually was. He picked up his burger with both hands and began to basically devour the thing.

It was a few bites in that Yuuri realized coming here was probably a bigger mistake than he’d thought. He never looked very good when he ate, but much less so when it was a burger and he was starving. And now Viktor had seen him eat like a barbarian. Yuuri nervously swallowed his latest bite and dared a peek at Viktor. He breathed a sigh of relief when Viktor seemed all too focused on his own meal to even look at him. Still, he tried to eat slower, sneaking a few fries to his mouth once in a while.

“Mm-mmm!” Viktor mumbled around his own burger. “This is  _ sooo _ good, Yuuri! I can’t believe I’ve never been here before! I need to tell everyone!”

Yuuri smiled a bit, averting his eyes. “I’m glad you like it…”

They ate on in silence for a moment, until Yuuri no longer felt like his stomach was going to start eating itself. Having somewhat restored his intake of calories for the day, he felt like he was able to finally think a bit more clearly and form coherent sentences in his mind to say, like a normal human being.

So, he came out with, “Viktor…I’m sorry.”

Viktor looked up from his meal with a blink. “Sorry? For what?”

“For just…everything today,” Yuuri blurted, flushing with humiliation. “For spilling coffee on you, for falling asleep, for not having my paper with me, for making you listen me rant about my day and-”

“Whoa, whoa, Yuuri,” Viktor interrupted him. “As I already told you in the morning, it’s fine. The shirt can be washed. And honestly, I would’ve forgiven you for that and everything anyway, knowing the day you’ve had, but I already knew you weren’t yourself today in class.” Viktor’s gaze was warm, and to Yuuri’s surprise he reached over across the table and covered Yuuri’s hand with his own. Viktor’s hand was warm, and Yuuri’s began to sweat, as his heartbeat sped up. 

“Yuuri…do you even realize how much you contribute to the class? You always have so many thoughts, and so much to say about the books we read, and with you I can tell you’ve actually  _ read  _ them. Almost no one else ever says anything in class, and most of them don’t even do the required reading. They take the class because they have to, and many of them sleep in there anyway. But you…” Viktor’s smile was so soft… “You always have an opinion to express. You’ve put so much thought into what you read, and you actually share them. I thought I was going to be teaching a class full of bored and/or sleeping people, but then…then you were there, and made everything better,” Viktor said softly. “You’re the highlight of my week too, Yuuri. And when I saw you fell asleep, I knew something wasn’t right with you, because you never sleep in my class. I tried to ask you what was wrong before you left, but…”

Yuuri blinked. “That’s what you were doing?” he asked. “I thought you were making fun of me for forgetting my paper…”

“No, Yuuri, no,” Viktor hurried to say. “I can forgive the paper too. I know you’re a good student, and if you forgot it, I know it’s not because you didn’t write it. You can just as well return it tomorrow. I won’t tell,” he reassured Yuuri, and Yuuri felt a bit better. “Just, Yuuri, I mean it…is everything all right with you? Other than the fact that you had a horrible day?”

Yuuri sighed. “I’ve just been tired.” He stared down at the table, not even sure why he was telling Viktor any of this. But he’d already told Viktor all about his awful day, so why not go all the way? He could almost feel his words beginning to flow out of him again. “There’s been a lot of work lately, since it’s supposed to be my last year of college before I get my Bachelor’s degree, and I’m just trying to balance everything. I haven’t been sleeping as much, and when I don’t sleep, I get hungry and eat too much and I feel like…like everyone in dance watches me and that Madame Lilia is disappointed.” Yuuri breathed. “I’m…I’m scared she’s going to cut me out of her class.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured, squeezing his hand. “I’m sure she won’t do that.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Yuuri mumbled. “She only took me on because my old ballet teacher recommended me to her, and they know each other from years past. And I…I don’t want to lose dancing.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor began. “How long have you danced with Madame Lilia?”

“Huh?” Yuuri looked up, eyes wide. “About…four years now. Since I first came here. Why?”

“Well,” Viktor said, smiling. “From what I know of her from Yura, I don’t think she’s the type of person to keep someone around just because, even if they come recommended by someone she knows. She might take a look at them as a favor, but whether she actually takes them on is up to the dancer. And she took you, and has kept you all these years. Shouldn’t that tell you something about yourself?”

Yuuri blinked. Now that Viktor put it into words, he realized he was right. When he’d left Japan, all Minako-sensei had said was, “She’s agreed to audition you. The rest is up to you, but I know you can do it.” He’d forgotten how nervous he’d been upon meeting Madame Lilia, but how he’d slowly forgotten his fear once he started to dance. Yuuri had known Madame Lilia was the best dance teacher to be found in Detroit, but he also knew she preferred training competitive dancers to anything else. And by that point, Yuuri had already left his competitive days behind. And still…she’d still taken him as a student. Let him teach a few classes even, to train him on his own path of wanting to open his own dance school. And he was still her student, even now.

“…Maybe,” he was willing to admit. Viktor looked slightly disappointed, but he smiled at Yuuri regardless. “Thank you, Viktor…for everything today.”

Viktor smiled wider then. “You’re welcome. I’m glad if I was able to help even a little.”

“You did,” Yuuri smiled. “More than you know.”

They finished their meals, but this time, were able to keep on conversing while they ate. Yuuri found it was actually easy to talk to Viktor, maybe because he was already somewhat used to it from class. But Viktor in general seemed to have the type of aura that made trusting him easy, even for a person like Yuuri who had always had difficulty making friends.

“So you weren’t born in the States?” Viktor asked him.

“No, Japan. I came here for college,” Yuuri explained. “What about you? Were you born here?”

“Not born, no. I was born in Russia, but we moved to the U.S. when I was only seven years old for my father’s work, so I’ve been here longer than I’ve been anywhere else. I do consider the States my home,” Viktor told him. “It must’ve taken a lot of courage to come all the way here for school.”

“A bit,” Yuuri forced a laugh. “I grew up in a small town, and I always knew I would have to go somewhere else for school and probably for work, too. I had been thinking about going to school in America for a long time for dance, so I guess I was set on it even after my dream as a dancer changed. And I thought it a good opportunity to see the world too, a bit, before I have to be a real adult and work.”

Viktor chuckled, and somehow the conversation turned into animals and pets. They found out they both owned poodles, though Yuuri’s Vicchan was a miniature and Viktor’s Makkachin was much bigger. They also showed each other pictures of their dogs on their phones.

“It must be hard for you to be away from Vicchan. I can’t imagine being so far from Makkachin for so long,” Viktor said, pouting his lips in sympathy.

“Yeah…” Yuuri murmured. “I do miss him a lot, and there have been times when I’ve thought about bringing him over here, but…the apartment we live in doesn’t allow pets and in any case, I think he’s happier in Japan, where he can run around and be free, and has people taking care of him. I probably wouldn’t have the time to give him that he deserves,” he sighed, but forced a smile. “It’s good though that there is Skype and such now. That way I at least get to see Vicchan once in a while, even if it’s through a screen.”

Viktor smiled. “That’s true.”

So their conversation continued, from school to their families to their hobbies and ambitions. They talked for a long time, about everything and nothing, and for once Yuuri felt like he was able to let go, and not worry about anything. With Viktor, he felt like he could just be, and live in the moment, enjoying his company.

Eventually, however, inevitably the rest of the day finally began to catch up to Yuuri, and he began to yawn as it began to grow harder and harder to keep up with the conversation.

“I should take you home now,” Viktor said, seeing it. “You should get some rest.”

Although Yuuri knew that was true, he honestly didn’t want to leave. This was the most fun he’d had in a long time, and he really enjoyed spending time with and talking to Viktor. And to his surprise, Viktor seemed to enjoy conversation with him as well. Still, he might start blurting out weird and embarrassing things as he grew more tired, so it was probably a good idea to go home.

Viktor paid for both of them, as promised, waving away Yuuri’s promises to pay him back.

“Tell you what,” Viktor said. “Next time, you treat. Deal?”

Next time? Viktor wanted to meet again like this? Yuuri almost couldn’t contain his glee. “Okay, deal.”

They returned to Viktor’s car, Yuuri gave Viktor his address, and Viktor drove him there, parking in front of Yuuri’s apartment building. Yuuri suddenly found himself at a loss for words, and not knowing what to do. They sat in a momentary silence in the car.

“What…” Yuuri eventually began, bringing Viktor’s attention to him. “I’m still wearing your clothes…”

“That’s okay. You can return them later,” Viktor reassured him. Then, he smiled. “I had fun, Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiled too, if slightly hesitantly. “I did too. Honestly, this day ended so much better than I thought it would.”

“I’m glad,” Viktor said. He seemed to consider something, hesitating, before asking, “Yuuri…is it okay if I save your number? I mean, if we’re going to have that next time…” Viktor suddenly looked weirdly shy, his cheeks flushing and averting his eyes.

Yuuri’s smile just widened, even though his heart was beginning to beat faster again. This time, though, it wasn’t with nerves, but something that he thought resembled happiness. “Sure. I’ll add you to my contacts too.”

They fiddled with their phones, Yuuri adding the number he had called earlier in his contacts as ‘Viktor,’ before grabbing his things and stepped out of the car. He got his bike out of the trunk as well. 

“Bye, Viktor,” he said from the car door, leaning in. “Thanks again. I’ll bring that paper to you tomorrow.”

Viktor grinned. “I look forward to it.”

Not wanting to seem silly, Yuuri didn’t stick around to watch Viktor leave, and rather went on his way. He left what remained of his bike in the storage, since it was too late to do anything about that tonight, and then hurried up to his apartment, turning the keys in the front door lock. Immediately when he stepped in, he came face-to-face with Phichit.

“Where the hell have you been?!” his roommate/best friend cried. “I’ve been trying to call you for hours, and none of my calls are going through! I thought you would’ve been home a long time ago! And I know you’re an adult and all, but I’d like to at least know where you are if you’re gonna be this late!”

“Oh,” Yuuri mumbled. “Sorry. Something came up. I’m okay though.” He paused. “But I didn’t hear you call.” He checked his phone. There were no missed calls. “Phichit…have you changed my contact info to my new number?”

“…Whoops.”

Yuuri smirked. “For someone who is so attached to his phone, you sure forget the simplest things. Maybe I’m not the one who can’t use his phone properly.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault the easiest way to reach me is through Twitter!”

Yuuri shook his head with a short laugh, feeling much lighter than he had earlier, but also exhausted to the bone. As much as he loved Phichit, he’d spent the better part of a few hours socializing, and right now he just needed some peace and quiet. Thankfully, his friend seemed to be able to understand that by a look alone, the two of them in sync well after many years of friendship and living together.

“Fine, go take a shower and do your thing,” Phichit said, holding up his hands. “But I want to hear all about it sooner or later!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri reassured him, heading towards his room. “You will.”

Yuuri showered quickly, letting the warm water wash away the rest of the day once he’d neatly folded the clothes Viktor had let him borrow. It was a relief to be able to relax in his own space and change into comfortable pajamas and a fluffy sweater, before settling in his bed with a book. He was a few pages into it (and vaguely wondering if Viktor would like this particular book. He’d stated the fact that he liked stories as his reason for majoring in literature), when Phichit yelled through his door, “Those weren’t your clothes you were wearing!”

Yuuri just chuckled, glancing down at his phone by his face, and the message Viktor had sent him a little while ago:

_ From: Viktor _

_ Bored with all these papers. Looking forward to yours! _

Yuuri began tapping his own message.

_ From: Me _

_ You can do it! _

Having sent it, he smiled to himself. In the end, today hadn’t been so bad a day after all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://nihonlove.tumblr.com).


End file.
